Conquest
by FreezePride
Summary: <html><head></head>Characters: Demyx, Zexion, Lexaeus. There are certain things which the Silent Hero cannot simply stand by and let happen. [ Zemyx ]</html>


"End it, now." If Lexaeus bursting into the room, nearly knocking the heavy oaken door from it's hinges at the library threshold had not been enough of a surprise, the shattering of his surrounding illusions certainly had been. As the comfort of his own mental cocoon had been torn away, Zexion was left with a nothing but the the midday sun streaming through the windows, the book lying within his lap and the cushions of his favorite chair for comfort.

The young prodigy glared daggers. This behavior was not only unfitting of his guardian, it was downright foolish. He kept his anger carefully in check, which was surprisingly easy given his perchance for controlling how he outwardly portrayed himself. With a bored sigh, he fixed Lexaeus with a curiously innocent glance which revealed absolutely nothing in retrospect. A self-satisfied smirk passed over his features.

"Is something wrong, V?" He asked smoothly, closing the book carefully between his slender hands. Lexaeus crossed his tree trunk sized arms and set his stance as though bracing himself for what he thought was going to be an oncoming landslide of excuses. Zexion was reminded painfully of the time when Aeleus had caught him stealing some of Even's notes to do his own research based off of.

To say that the Silent Hero was 'stone faced' on a normal occasion, was really quite perfunctory. Right now, it would have been quite easy for anyone to tell he looked livid.

Zexion quirked a singular eyebrow smoothly, revealing none of the uncertainty he was now recognizing in his own consciousness. Had the darkness finally gotten to him? Was his guardian turning his loyalties. Zexion's breath caught in his throat at the idea. No, that would never occur.

And indeed, he was right. "Demyx." Was the only answer that Lexaeus deemed appropriate, as though the name should be more than enough. Zexion could have laughed in relief, but instead he just chuckled at the suggestion of him in general. Snide and derisive, his 'joy' seemed to reek of sarcasm and something far less unsavory.

Conquest, perhaps?

"Oh, so you found out about that?" Zexion sighed as though they were speaking of a particularly loquacious, but considerably more stupid pet who couldn't quite speak their language. "Yes, he's...amusing. Very energetic." The Schemer rolled his eyes and slipped the book back open again as though the subject certainly didn't demand his 'full' attention.

Lexaeus was still standing there, glaring unblinkingly down at him as though too angry for words. Zexion sighed again, perhaps a touch petulantly this time. "Was there anything else?"

"End it." Lexaeus repeated, his tone even, low and (for the first time in a long while) forceful.

Again, that singular delicate eyebrow quirked and a coy grin spread across Zexion's face, as though the conversation had finally turned in the exact direction he had been expecting. "Is this jealousy, I'm sensing? How unbecoming, Lexaeus." He commented airily, yet his eye was particularly attentive, watching carefully for any reaction which would betray the true core of what the Silent Hero was thinking.

But if he were looking for shame, or shock at being 'called out' as it were, Zexion was sorely mistaken. Lexaueus' expression softened for a shadow of a moment into something far more sorrowful than spiteful. "Demyx believes you love him." The softness of his voice was far closer to his normal cadence, his normal tone. It was an un-namable comfort. "He said that you told him this."

The silence was deafening between them.

Then, quite suddenly, Zexion's laughter rang, bouncing off the walls, cold and shrill as winter morning. He held his sides as he gasped for air. "He believed it! Oh, for darkness sake!" the cackle continued until the young prodigy was wiping involuntary tears from his eyes, clutching the book to his thin chest for support. "We don't even have hearts and he believed it. What an idiot! What an absolute fool-"

The words stopped dead on Zexion's mouth, and the echo of wicked laughter was a ghost on his soft features as he stared up at the warrior. He took one look at the absolute disgust on Lexaeus' face and suddenly felt the strong urge to rewind the entire conversation. He thought fleetingly of how he might do so with illusions, but doubted he could make it work entirely against one so very accustomed to the Schemer's 'tricks'. Lexaeus shook his head slowly, as though choking down anger and bile at the mere suggestion of what had just been affirmed.

"He is not your plaything. Tell him the truth and end it." Seeming to be able to take no more, he lowered his clenched fists to his sides and turned for the door.

"You know," Zexion pointed out at his retreating back, not being able to resist the temptation of having the last word. "he should be happy to be a 'plaything'. He's not even human." The door slammed shut behind Lexaeus. Dust was shaken from the ceiling beams at the force, sending a small flurry of particles on to the reader below. Zexion sneezed in response.

"And neither am I, for that matter." He pointed out to himself unnecessarily as the comfort of his illusions and darkness engulfed him once again, a blanket of comforting darkness against the midday sun.

A week later, Demyx sat, plucking uselessly at his sitar, fingering a song expertly along the long, slender neck, not bothering to play it and make the very molecules of the air sing. Nothing seemed to want to sing. Lexaeus entered the lounge area, quietly as he always did before spotting the young man and moving to sit nearby.

He glanced over at the water-wielder, royal blue eyes taking his his pale complexion, his dull hair, his unsmiling face, his music-less fingertips. Gradually, Demyx turned to face the other man as well, perhaps to greet him, perhaps to comment on the weather (or therefore lack of at Never Was) but somehow it only seemed to come out as a choked sob. He buried his face in his hands, as though hiding himself, fearing his weakness might be put to use from those that would be smart enough take advantage.

Lexaeus kept watch and blocked the young man from view (which was not exactly hard, considering his size). He patted his back comfortingly, wondering not for the first time, if they really were as heartless at they all claimed to be.


End file.
